


Champions:  A Whole New World

by LadyDeb



Series: Champions [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Second Chance at Life, small-town life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDeb/pseuds/LadyDeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second in Champions series:  Boromir has been released from the hospital and it's time for him to start his new life in Campbell. Meanwhile, Legolas and Haldir arrive in the world of Men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue:  Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Here we have it, the prologue of the second story in the Champions series. I believed that Boromir's arrival in his new home deserved a story of its own, especially since he would be celebrating his first Christmas in this story. You'll be meeting far more residents of Campbell, and 'seeing' more of the town itself.

Disclaimer: Boromir of Gondor, Legolas, Haldir, and other such denizens of Middle-earth and/or Valinor do not belong to me. They belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien, and to a degree, New Line Cinemas. On the other hand, the denizens of Campbell, North Carolina, especially the Rafferty and Gutierrez families, do belong to me. I have no objection to you borrowing them. . .just ask first and return them to me intact.

It was a strange, strange world. Many days previous, he awoke in a strange place of healing, with no memories at all. Since his awakening, he began to learn the languages of this new place. . .very slowly. His understanding was still limited, as he learned only a small number of words. But it kept him occupied while he was awake, and he was at least learning something. At the same time, he was learning about his new companions. There was Kristin, who had been here from the beginning; Kristin's sister Maygun and her boon companion, Aylayna, was at the place of healing nearly every day, almost always accompanied by their hound, whom they called Neeco. While he could understand none of what was actually said, the man currently called 'Mikal'  _could_  read facial expressions and body languages. And what he learned was that Maygun was grieving for someone or something. Many times, Mikal saw her with Ronan, her eyes red-rimmed from weeping. Aylayna was also grieving, but not as sharply. She was, however, worried about Maygun (also called Meg), but did not hover. It was becoming evident to Mikal that the two older women were warriors. He did not believe he ever encountered female warriors, but this world was just strange enough for such a thing to be possible. At the very least, they were guardians. . .protectors.

And now, he was leaving with them. While he was not fully recovered, he  _was_  strong enough to leave. He was settled in a wheeled chair, attired in loose fitting trousers and a warm top. Neeco was parked at his side, his head resting in Mikal's lap. The man absently stroked the hound, scratching behind his ears ever so often. Much to his surprise, Mikal heard the hound growl. He looked up, nearly groaning as he beheld the reason for Neeco's anger. While Mikal had no issue with the man now approaching. . .after all, he provided Mikal's new clothing. . .the woman was another story entirely. She had a pretty face and intelligent eyes, but she wore a sneer that seemed permanent, rendering her singularly unattractive. In addition, he did not like the way she treated Kristin, Meg and Aylayna. . .as if they were less than she. As ever, her lower lip was curled disdainfully when she looked at Meg and Aylayna, who were now studying papers, as if she smelled something especially foul. Mikal could not imagine what that something would be.

Meg said something and turned to face the newcomers more fully, resting a protective hand on Mikal's shoulder. She was, he quickly came to realize, a very affectionate, demonstrative person. When she came to his chambers over the last several days, she would rest a hand on his forearm or his brow when she first entered, before sitting down beside him. The morning after he first met them, Mikal became aware that something was different about both Meg and Aylayna. . .something was different about Kristin as well. The two guardians seemed calm and determined. Kristin, on the other hand, just seemed. . .she seemed happier. His command of the new language was pitiful, but based on Ronan's motions, Mikal concluded that he would be leaving with the guardians. That was, in all likelihood, also the reason why they spent so much time with him since. Not that he was complaining. Aylayna brought pictures with her, pictures of the children in her family. From what he could gather, they were the children of her brothers and sisters, given that she would gesture to Meg and Kristin, before indicating a small child. Either way, though he knew very little of children, the little ones were beautiful indeed.

Meg said very little when she sat with him. Sometimes, she would bring a book or a pamphlet, which Ronan called a 'mag-a-zeen,' and read to him from them. He understood none of the words, but that mattered not. Even when she was reading, it gave him a focus, other than his injuries, his weakness, and his frustration with his inability to communicate with them. Further, it gave him an opportunity to study her. Usually allowing her younger sister or Aylayna to do the talking, Meg observed others. That made them the same. She behaved in such a manner for her own reasons. . .while he had no other choice. He used hand motions, body language, facial expressions, and tone to figure out what was going on around him. Still, it was common ground for him, and right now, Mikal accepted anything in common, and accepted it gratefully. While she was shorter than Aylayna, she was no less protective of her, and of Kristin. It was not as blatant. . .but for anyone paying attention, it was there.

As for Kristin, she continued her daily visits. Mikal rarely understood anything she said, picking out a word here and there, but she brightened his day with her arrival, sometimes literally. By now, he learned that the object she sometimes held while talking to him contained information about his recovery. Once again, he wished he could learn to read this new language, but he had other things to concern him. Such as the jolt of pain which shot through him now, interrupting his thoughts. A quick glance told him that he was moving, thanks to Meg pushing his chair. The older guardian pulled the blonde woman out of the way, saying something to her rather sharply. She moved, reluctantly, and Mikal looked over his shoulder as Meg smiled sweetly. Kristin and Aylayna followed, Aylayna putting her arm around the young healer's shoulders. A half second after that, Ronan followed as well. So began his new life. . .so began the end of his time in this specific place.

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Dr. Ronan Daly followed the small group as the Rafferty sisters and Detective Elena Gutierrez wheeled Boromir (currently called Michael) to the elevator which would take them to the lobby of the hospital. Kristin just finished her finals, and would be returning with the others for her winter break. She would be back in a month, for the beginning of the new term (with the mini-van he was loaning to them for this trip). He would look forward to that, and in the meantime, he would think seriously about making trips of his own to Campbell when he had a few days off.

It wasn't that Gimli's reincarnation distrusted the three young women who would be looking after Boromir. If that was the case, he would have found a way to keep Boromir here in Raleigh, regardless of what the demi-goddess Pelagia wanted. But after all these eons, all these lives, of searching for Boromir and never finding him. . .Ronan was not about to let him simply walk out of his life. Not that he was walking anywhere right now. Ronan suppressed a smile, remembering the look on his friend's face when Megan Rafferty began wheeling him out of his room. Boromir gripped the sides of the wheelchair, his face tightening with surprise and with pain, but relaxed after a moment.

Now, as they began the descent to the lobby, he actually seemed to be enjoying himself. However, Ronan noticed, his head was twisting this way and that, trying to take in his new surroundings. This was the furthest he had been from his room since he awakened, nearly two weeks earlier. He was taking short walks, around his room first, then up and down the corridor, slowly regaining his strength. Everything was so new to him, and sometimes, Ronan found himself looking at his world through Boromir's eyes. He noticed nearly everything, it seemed. He noticed when Megan's small hands tightened around the handles of his wheelchair, and the tension around her mouth. In all likelihood, Boromir didn't understand the reason for it, but he did know she was afraid of something. Ronan had no way of explaining to his friend that Megan hated being in enclosed spaces. Ronan put his hand on her shoulder, and Boromir smiled at him gratefully. While he was healing quickly, Boromir still could not turn easily without aggravating the wound to his abdomen. . .or his chest.

And even without his memories of Gondor, and his father the Steward, Boromir was still very proud, particularly when it came to dealing with private body functions. He hated people seeing him like that, even those few whom he trusted. Ronan helped, when those times came. He raised a few eyebrows, when people noticed, but Ronan simply explained that 'Michael' reminded him of an old friend, who died many years earlier. He was known for being a bit. . . unusual anyhow, so the explanation was accepted. Besides, the look of absolute gratitude in Boromir's eyes was worth it. Once he was strong enough to walk to the adjoining bathroom, Ronan taught him what he needed to know. . .then stepped back. However, he never went so far that he couldn't catch Boromir when his legs gave out.

Ronan couldn't do anything about his pride. . .he just made things as easy as possible on the poor lad. It seemed that was the most he could do, anyhow. Ever since Boromir's arrival, it seemed like he was doing a lot of things he didn't normally do. Not that Ronan held it against the lad. . .by the Valar, not at all! He was entirely too happy to have Boromir back in his life, after all these ages. But Ronan was brutally honest, with himself, if nothing else. Things were definitely far more complicated now, and it was unlike that would change. Shortly after Boromir was found (and the Campbell girls arrived), the other doctors realized they could do very little for the police. For one thing, Boromir should have died, given the amount of blood he lost. In addition, the report came back on the splinters they dug out of Boromir's body. . .while the information was kicked upstairs, the splinters came from trees not known to the scientific community. His colleagues weren't stupid. They realized that there was something very strange about this patient. . .they also knew what would happen if word got out. The hospital, and Raleigh itself, would turn into a media circus. Their job was to take care of the sick and the injured. To say that they covered things up was an unpleasant way of putting it. They simply. . .didn't share everything they knew. There was a slight difference.

"We'll take care of him. . .I promise," Megan said softly, drawing his attention. Ronan smiled. He knew that. . .more than that, he had absolute faith in all three, after getting to know them. Megan added with a hint of a smile, "And I promise, I'll take very good care of your van as well." Ronan nearly laughed aloud, but controlled his mirth. After they left the hospital, their next stop would be the airport, where they were picking up Megan and Kristin's parents and their cousin Gavin. Their parents, Francis and Ailsa, were returning from a cruise. Gavin flew down to Miami to meet them. It was for that reason that Ronan was loaning his mini-van to them. He generally only used it on his days off, after all. Megan would drive it home, while Elena would follow in her Saturn with Nico. The German Shepherd wouldn't be happy about being separated from his new friend, but Elena needed the company. He wondered if he should suggest to Kristin that she ride with Elena. . .thanks to the interference of their cousin, Megan had things she needed to discuss with their parents. After a moment, however, he decided against it. They would work this out for themselves.

They reached the lobby, much to Boromir's relief, it seemed. Ronan noted with amusement that he was starting to fidget in the wheelchair. The elevator dinged as it opened, and Megan wheeled Boromir out. Ronan would accompany them to the mini-van, now waiting in the front of the building, and help get Boromir inside. . .it was something with which he had a great deal of experience. He informed security that it was there, and one of the guards was in the mini-van, keeping it running and preventing it from being towed. That was Elena's suggestion, and he kicked himself for not thinking of it himself. As she steered Boromir toward the sliding doors, Megan said softly, "I can't begin to thank you for everything you've done over the last few weeks. I know that you're a doctor, and it's your job, but. . .thank you." Ronan merely smiled again and patted her shoulder. He couldn't tell her the real reason why he was doing this for them, for Boromir. She wasn't ready to know the whole truth, and even if she was, she wasn't ready for the fallout. He wished he could tell her that her life was about to get far more complicated. . .but that would lead to more questions that he couldn't answer.

"You can thank me best by takin' good care of this young man," he answered as they reached the van. He knew from Pelagia that the Elf was on his way. . . but it would take Legolas time to figure where Boromir was, and then to reach North Carolina. The night before, he dreamed of his last days of Gimli, those days he spent in Valinor as the constant companion of the prince of Mirkwood. Thanks to those dreams, he remembered Sindarin. It wasn't enough to carry on a conversation. . .but it was enough to get across what he wanted said. Elena slid open the rear passenger door, and Ronan asked Megan, "Might I have a few moments alone wi' him, while you're gettin' his seat ready?" Megan, to her credit, hesitated. . .but after a moment, she smiled and nodded, moving to assist Elena. Kristin, in the meantime, was transferring Megan's bags to the back of the mini-van, and Nico parked himself beside Boromir's wheelchair. Ronan circled around and knelt in front of Boromir, smiling a little at the clothes he was wearing. A far cry from the clothes in which he was found. . .a far cry from his attire during the quest. . .but the sweats he wore would keep him warm and were loose enough not to aggravate his wounds further.

"You understand very little right now, my friend," he murmured in Sindarin, "but the next time we meet, you'll be speaking English beautifully. I have absolute faith in you. So, until we meet again. . .welcome home." Boromir's green eyes lit up, affirming what Ronan believed. Boromir might not remember his name or his past, but he did remember the Sindarin he learned as the eldest son of the Steward. Ronan smiled at him and pressed a tender, platonic kiss to his forehead.  _Aragorn_ , he thought,  _I don't know where you are. . .but I don't think you'd mind me taking your place._

_Welcome home, son of Gondor. Welcome home._

 

TBC


	2. Comings and Goings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have Legolas and Haldir arriving in the world of Men, Ailsa and Francis Rafferty returning with Gavin, and a peek into what's happening in Campbell. Oh, and 'Janithy' is an actual name, in case anyone is wondering. I didn't make it up.

They sat together in the baggage claim section of Raleigh-Durham International Airport, three women in the chairs provided and a man in a wheelchair. The steady clank-clank-clank of the bag conveyer beat out a steady rhythm, both soothing and jarring to those who waited. It reassured, because it wouldn't be moving if the plane hadn't arrived. Or rather, provided further assurance that the plane landed safely. A quick check of the arrival/departure screen when the first arrived at the airport provided them with that initial reassurance. The youngest member of the quartet asked, her voice dangerously close to a whine, "Why aren't they here yet?" Her older sister looked up from her conversation with her partner, the first signs of impatience becoming obvious.

However, she said only, "It takes them a few minutes to disembark, Kristy, you know that. That's assuming Gavin hasn't decided to let the entire plane off first." And knowing their cousin, that was entirely too likely. Detective Megan Rafferty shook her dark hair out of her eyes, adding, "And you know that if Gavin sees a lone woman with even one child, he'll have to get her carry-ons for her. Be patient." To forestall any further arguments with her sister, Megan leaned forward to arrange a blanket around the legs of the man. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He probably was warm enough, but he'd been in the hospital for several weeks, and since this was his first time outside, well. . . She didn't want to take any chances.

"Besides, here they come now," said the final member of the small group, Megan's partner. Detective Elena Gutierrez bit back a smile as Kristin Rafferty perked up immediately. Megan and Elena exchanged a glance as the former rose to her feet carefully, then Elena continued, "Yup, you called it, Meg." A tall, dark-haired man was walking alongside a frazzled young woman: he was carrying a diaper bag and a duffle bag, while she carried a toddler in her arms. The partners exchanged another glance, grinning as they did. Typical Gavin.

As soon as the woman's husband relieved Gavin of his burdens, shaking his hand at the same time, Kristin bolted toward him, shrieking her cousin's name. Elena murmured, "Your mom and dad are right behind him, Meg. You go ahead, I can stay here with Michael." Megan looked at her partner questioningly, and Elena repeated, "It's fine. And you know your mom and dad will wanna make sure you're okay. Besides, you probably should rescue poor Gavin from your sister."

Megan raised her eyebrows, responding, "Gavin's a grown man and a trained Marine. . . he's more than capable of rescuing himself from Kristin." Elena started to answer, but stared at something over Megan's shoulder. The shorter detective looked in the direction of her partner's stare, and shook her head, muttering, "On second thought. . .are you sure you don't mind staying here with Michael?" Kristin had literally glomped Gavin, and now their cousin was struggling to stay upright.

"Go. We'll be fine," Elena answered, giving Megan's shoulder a little nudge. Megan thought briefly about nudging back, but decided it probably wouldn't be the best idea under the circumstances. She smiled reassuringly at Michael, who was watching the proceedings with a great deal of curiosity, as well as some bewilderment. When he smiled back, still looking confused, she squeezed his shoulder, then walked over to the family reunion taking place only a few feet away.

Her parents had persuaded Kristin to release Gavin, and now hugged their youngest between them, giving Megan complete access to their cousin. Not for the first time, Megan mentally observed how handsome her cousin was. Hey, just because they were family didn't mean she couldn't appreciate his good looks! People often didn't believe they were related, because their similarities weren't physical. For one thing, Gavin was several inches taller than Megan, coming in at six feet. For another, his black hair was straight (as opposed to her wavy brown hair), and he had bright blue eyes (hers were hazel, if one wanted to be complimentary). And aside from his height and coloring, he was just very good-looking. Megan? When she was about twelve or thirteen, she overheard a member of her grandmother's circle say of her, 'Well, she's a good student and a good citizen, but she'll never be a beauty, bless her heart.' Her appearance wasn't among her best attributes.

Megan made peace with that years earlier. She was nobody special, and she knew that. She was okay with it. Besides, her main concern right now was with her family. Especially her cousin. To his credit, Gavin actually looked sheepish as she approached him. Well, that was a good sign. At least he understood that she believed she had the right to be annoyed with him, even if he didn't necessarily agree. As she reached him, Gavin pulled her into his arms, hugging her fiercely. He whispered, "We need to talk." Megan froze briefly. . . Gavin's timing sucked, as ever. . .then returned his embrace. Gavin was Gavin. To expect anything else, well. . .it just didn't happen.

But as she pulled back, she said softly, "You're right. We do." Nothing more was said, though Gavin looked even more sheepish than he had. Hmm. The last time she saw that particular look on his face, Dad had chewed him out for. . .something. She couldn't remember exactly what he did to draw Dad's wrath, but that was the last time she saw that expression on his face. However, she said nothing more as she turned to her parents. Her mother was on the verge of saying something, but Dad got there first, pulling her into his arms for an equally fierce hug.

"How's my girl?" he whispered, holding her tightly. Megan blinked back tears. She hadn't realized until he said it, just how much she missed him. It really was true. . .no matter how old you were, you were still the child of your parents. Megan was thirty-two now, but she was still her father's little girl, and always would be. She didn't answer at first, just tightened her arms around him. And words proved to be unnecessary, as her father added softly, "You'll forgive Gavin. You always do." That provoked a laugh from her, as Francis Rafferty drew back to look at her. He cupped her face in his hands, adding with an affectionate smile, "There. I missed you, princess."

"Daddy! I thought I was your princess!" Kristin pouted, tucked against their mother's side. Francis and Megan exchanged a look, then their father laughed softly, kissing the top of Megan's head. Kristin gave a mock-stamp of her foot, completing the picture. Megan thought she was trying to look like a ten year old, rather than a college student. It wasn't working especially well. Unless, of course, she was trying to make them laugh. In which case, she was succeeding beyond her wildest dreams.

"No, baby," Francis answered, keeping his arm around Megan's shoulders, "You're my angel. Meg's my princess." The detective smirked at her sister as her right hand came up to cover her father's hand at her shoulder. Kristin just stuck out her tongue, and their father warned as the family walked back to Elena, "Enough of that, Kristin Drusilla, you're not ten years old anymore. Hola, Elena. . .thanks for coming to meet us, and. . . Who is this young man?" There was a strange note in her father's voice and Megan raised her head to look at him. He was staring at Michael, almost as if he recognized him. Michael, for his part, looked interested, but that was all.

"This is Michael. . .and it's a very long story. And you don't have to thank me for anything, Tio. You know that. Tia," Elena added, smiling at Megan's mother. Ailsa Rafferty beamed at her and hugged her tightly. Elena returned the embrace, adding, "So, you're still in one piece, Gavin. . .Megan told me that you could rescue yourself from Kristin." The girl in question glared at Elena, who continued, "I really wouldn't advise hitting me, chica. Remember, I  _am_  a police officer."

"I look forward to hearing the story in full. . .Elena, could you schedule an evening when you can have dinner with us? Maybe in a week or so, since Kristin is on her winter break. And Michael. . .poor thing. He looks like he could use some good home-cooking, too," Megan's mother answered. As she thought. . .Mom just met Michael, and she was already mothering him. His smile remained bright but bemused, as if he wasn't entirely certain what was going on. Mom added after a moment, "Megan? Sweetheart. . .he doesn't speak English, does he?"

"Not a word of English, and he has no memory of his past. He doesn't know his name, where he came from. That's part of why we brought him with us. And Elena chose the name 'Michael' for him," Megan admitted. There was, of course, a lot more to it than that, but for now, it would serve as an explanation. To Michael, she said, pointing to each parent, "Mother. . .father." And then she indicated herself and Kristin. His face lit up with that smile she was already coming to appreciate.

"Mother. . .father. Meg, Kristin. Daughters?" Michael asked, inclining his head ever so slightly to the right, questioning if he had the right word. Megan nodded, smiling. He was learning so fast. While his face was an especially interesting shade of green during the first few minutes of the drive from the hospital to the airport, Kristin quickly distracted him by pointing out various things, such as trees and stop signs. For now, it was their best chance at teaching him English. Besides, none of them wanted to clean up a mess in Dr. Daly's van.

"Yes. . .Kristin and I are their daughters," she confirmed, still beaming at him. She turned her attention back to the newest arrivals, explaining, "We're teaching him English, one word at a time. In the beginning, it distracted him from his pain, and he desperately needed that focus." Now Gavin joined them. . .like the rest of the family, he kept a respectable distance from Michael, to avoid overwhelming him. And like her dad, he wore a puzzled expression, as if he recognized Michael. Megan thought, briefly, about asking them about it, then decided not to. Way too much going on right now.

"Let me check at the library. . .some of my friends may know of a software program to help him with the language," Mom offered. Meg smiled gratefully, and her mother continued, "And how was he injured? He's still healing, I see, but what landed him in the hospital in the first place?" Before Megan could answer, the first of the luggage began circling around on the conveyer, and Mom added, "I hope they didn't lose our luggage this time." Megan cringed at the memory of that particular trip.

"Not to worry, my love, I'll keep an eye on the luggage. Gavin, keep an eye on our womenfolk. Michael is a bit limited in what he can do," Dad put in. He kissed the top of his elder daughter's head, then repeated the gesture with Kristin, adding, "I'll be back in a few minutes, girls. No catfights in the meantime. . .Elena, you'll keep my princess and my angel of mercy from scratching or hair-pulling, won't you?" It was an old joke, and Megan rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. Kristin stuck out her lower lip. If she kept this up, Megan might make her ride with Elena on the way home.

Elena laughed, replying, "Not a problem, Tio. They're too worried about putting Michael in the middle. I'm beginning to understand why you want Megan married and with a child, Tia. . .she has quite the maternal streak." Megan glared at her best friend, and Elena just smirked. The shorter detective decided it would be better to just give up. There was no way she would win this particular battle. Besides. . Megan found that sometimes, the best revenge was doing absolutely nothing.

And Mom replied, "She always has. . .and the last I heard, you realized that as well. Of course, I've always thought you had quite the maternal streak as well, Elena." Heh. Just like she was saying. Her partner looked more than a little embarrassed. Mom continued, "Now, can you at least give me some basics? I realize Michael is the young man who drew you and Elena to Raleigh in the first place, but I also realize that it's hardly protocol to bring him home with you."

"There were extenuating circumstances, Tia," Elena replied, "including a damn Yankee of a cop named 'Christine Madsen.' And something Señora Sayre apparently said to Megan at some point, about your late father." Megan noticed her mother's eyes dim a little bit, at the mention of Craig McFarlane. But she also noticed that Mom looked curious. Elena noticed as well, and elaborated, "Apparently, she told Megan that your father took the actions he did, because it needed to be done. And, your first-born decided that Michael coming back with us needed to be done."

Mom smiled at Megan, reaching over to squeeze her hand, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, asking, "And where did the 'Michael' come from? I know you entirely too well to think that was an accident, Elena. . .you do everything for a reason." Heh. Megan wanted to laugh at her best friend's chagrined expression. Her mother was sooo good at doing things like that.

"Well, Michael was the warrior angel. And something about him makes me think that he's a soldier, or a protector of some kind," Elena replied. She paused, looking over her shoulder at Megan's father, and then added, "Especially after what Kristin told us about his first awakening." Megan nodded. Yeah, she knew what Elena meant. Kristin told them a little, and Ronan Daly filled in the rest of the details, including how Michael seemed to want to protect Kristin, thinking that the doctors were trying to harm her.

Mom looked at Michael thoughtfully, and then touched his blond hair gently. He watched her cautiously, and then relaxed as her fingers slid over his hair. Once more, Megan wondered about him. . .did he have a family who was looking for him? Where had he come from? She tried to imagine being in his position. . .in a strange place, not remembering his own name, not knowing the language. And once more, she realized that she and Elena did exactly the right thing, bringing him with them.

"Michael. It does suit him. But you never answered my other question. How was he injured. . .and where did you get the wheelchair?" Mom asked. Ah, yes, the wheelchair. Ronan Daly came to the rescue once more. Megan wondered if he made a habit of helping amnesiac patients in this way, or if Michael was special somehow. While they were in Raleigh, Megan noticed that Ronan was unusually protective of Michael, treating him as if he was a long-missing son. . .or a much younger brother. It was curious, but not suspicious. Ronan was a doctor, after all, and Kristin mentioned that he took her under his wing as well. Maybe he was just one of those people.

"That was the weird part, Mom, and the reason I asked Megan and Elena to come to Raleigh in the first place," Kristin replied, answering for the two detectives, "Michael was found in an alley, unconscious and bleeding, apparently the victim of a shooting. Well, he was shot. . .but not with a gun. The wounds were actually consistent with arrows. Most likely crossbow arrows."

"That's. . .unexpected. I wouldn't have thought there'd be a lot of crossbow-wielding maniacs in Raleigh," observed Gavin, speaking for the first time. His bright eyes were focused mainly on Michael, and he continued, "I take it that his condition was life-threatening?" Megan and Kristin both looked at their cousin, then at each other. Gavin noticed and said a bit defensively, "What? It's a perfectly legitimate question to ask, especially since the man's in a wheelchair."

"It's a perfectly legitimate question," Megan agreed reasonably. It was just unusual for her cousin. Then again, Gavin was acting strangely, period. He was looking at Michael rather intently. Not in the curious, sad way her mother was looking at him, but. . . Megan wasn't sure. She also wasn't sure if it disturbed her or not. Rather than mention it, she continued, "In any event, from what Kristin and Ronan. . .Ronan Daly, Kris can tell y'all more about him. . .from what they told us, he was in pretty bad shape. He should have died. . .but he's alive, and on the mend."

She looked at him again, at the green eyes absorbing everything about his surroundings. The childlike wonder on his handsome face as he looked around at the baggage claim of the airport. To her, it was just the baggage claim, just the airport. But to him? She didn't know what he was seeing, exactly, but she did know his expression looked familiar. She saw it on the faces of children, when they saw something brand new and special. And without realizing she was doing it, Megan opened herself up to a whole new world. . .by looking through Michael's eyes at her own world.

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Just when he thought he knew just how strange his new home was. . .he received a surprise. Sometimes an unwelcome one (such as when he left the hospital in that strange horseless cart with Meg and Kristin). . .and sometimes. . .sometimes, he wasn't entirely certain whether it was welcome or not. This was the case in his current surroundings. They arrived at this building nearly an hour ago, passing an odd sculpture that looked somewhat like a bird, but not entirely. Meg settled the horseless cart in front of a great pillar. There were a few moments of animated discussion between the three women, then Mikal was helped from the cart, leaning heavily on Kristin, and into the wheeled chair given to them by Ronan before they left the building of the healers (Ronan called it a 'hos-bi-tal.' He thought. Maybe he meant something else).

Once he was settled, Meg put down the footrests, and Mikal relaxed once more. The air smelled different here. He wasn't sure if it was bad or good, just that it was different. As they passed yet another pillar, Mikal was stunned to see. . .he wasn't entirely sure what it was. People seemed to be standing still. . .but they were moving! Aylayna and Kristin stepped to one side, while Meg steered him to the other, and Mikal was further shocked to see them standing still. . .and moving. Meg continued to wheel him along, exchanging what he could only assume to be good- natured insults with her younger sister and Aylayna. But the greatest surprise was yet to come. As they approached what Mikal believed to be a pair of clear doors. . .they opened. Mikal blinked. No one touched the doors. . .they opened. On their own. He had seen many extraordinary things since awakening. The small box with people inside (the teevee it was called, he was told), that loud and infernal device, the telle-fone. The rainbow wheel which played music (a CeeDee) and the music box which held it (a CeeDee player). However, this was the most stunning of all.

A quick glance over his shoulder and to his left assured Mikal that none of the young women were particularly surprised by the door opening. Meg smiled at him reassuringly, something that happened so often lately that Mikal was starting to think that was her natural expression. If it was, it was certainly preferable to the blonde woman's permanent sneer.

He smiled back, a bit hesitantly, and then turned his head back forward. Inside the building, there was another one of those moving-standing still walkways, as well as room on either side for people to walk normally. Once more, Meg chose the sides, which gave Mikal the chance, however brief, to examine the paintings that covered the wall. They meant absolutely nothing to him, but they were of creeks and the countryside and birds. Something familiar to him, aside from the three women. The other two rejoined Meg and Mikal as they approached another clear door. This time, it didn't surprise Mikal, seeing the doors open of their own accord.

He realized, as soon as they were past those doors, that this was the main building. Before this was. . .a courtyard, for lack of a better word. The three began talking, and while Mikal tried to catch a word or two, to figure out what was happening now, they were talking entirely too fast. And even after they started moving, he still wasn't entirely sure what was happening. Aylayna took over control of his wheeled chair. . . Meg headed toward a small room, while Kristin walked over to a series of black boxes, looking similar to teevees. Aylayna followed a little more slowly.

They stood in front of the teevees, searching for something. It seemed to Mikal that there was a form of writing. Evidently, Aylayna and Kristin were seeking information. Meg returned and Kristin spoke to her, waving excitedly at the teevees. Meg nodded, her expression both solemn and relieved. Aylayna headed back to the room which Meg just vacated, and the two sisters waited at the teevees. They spoke very little. Meg seemed tired, and Kristin. . .Kristin seemed worried. He had no idea why that might be, but that was his impression.

After a few minutes, Aylayna emerged and it was Kristin's turn. The two friends remaining with Mikal were also silent, but it was a different sort of silence. Aylayna reached over and touched Meg's hair. While they did not share the same blood (and Mikal had doubts about Meg and Kristin sharing blood), it was obvious to him that the pair loved each other like sisters. It was unnecessary for two people to share blood, or even the same parents, to be siblings.

At the unexpected contact, Meg looked up, startled, then smiled. She still looked tired. Perhaps she hadn't been sleeping well. Things were quite chaotic as they prepared to leave the healing building this morning, even before the blonde woman arrived. And Mikal was coming to realize that the girls and Ronan went through a great deal of trouble, to get him released into their care. Ronan. That was something else. The very last thing the healer said to him. . .Mikal understood every word. He couldn't remember the name of the language he spoke, but he understood it. And. . .what had he said? The next time they met. . .that Mikal would be speaking. . .English? Yes. Yes, that was what he said. That was the name of the language spoken by the people here. While it was very little, over all, Mikal knew something he hadn't, and that made a huge difference to him.

There was something else. . .Ronan spoke as if he knew Mikal. Welcome home, he had said. That would explain a great deal. . .the way Ronan behaved toward him; the protectiveness, tenderness even. Ronan oft behaved as if Mikal was his younger brother, the same Mikal. . . Whatever that memory held, it slipped away before Mikal could explore it further. The trouble with his theory was, if Ronan knew whom Mikal truly was, why did he say nothing? At least, until the end.

He had no further time to contemplate this, for Kristin returned, and they began walking once more. Mikal wished, with all of his heart, that he could understand more of this English, and not simply a few words. Why were they here? What, exactly, was here? Or, more appropriately, perhaps, where was here? That was the single greatest question for him to answer, was it not? Or perhaps not, given that he had no idea from whence he came. This was his new home, for weal or for woe.

They passed stands with food and drink, and Mikal even saw a rather large box with what appeared to be flowers inside. At last, they reached what seemed to be a small waiting area, and sat down in chairs provided. Meg and Aylayna began talking softly, and Kristin asked a question. Even Mikal recognized the beginnings of a whine in her voice, so he was quite surprised when her older sister responded only with an annoyed look. Rather, Meg rearranged the blanket over Mikal's legs. For all that she was a warrior, a protector, there was a gentleness to her, almost a mothering quality to her. He supposed that one did not necessarily preclude the other, but. . .it was strange to him, in some ways.

Shortly thereafter, Mikal discovered why they were here. A somewhat older couple, perhaps twenty years older than himself, approached the trio, accompanied by a man of about his own age. Mikal actually noticed him, even before Kristin flew into his arms, because he was helping an obviously exhausted young woman with a small child. He was, as Mikal already noted, around his own age. Where Mikal had blond hair and green eyes (as he knew from observing a mirror while Ronan groomed him), this man had black hair and bright blue eyes.

And he was staring at Mikal with the strangest expression. The newcomer wondered if this man also knew him. However, as Meg went forth to greet the trio, stepping into the arms of the older man, Elena directed his attention to the older couple, then indicated Meg and Kristin, saying, "Maygun. Kristin. Mother. Father." It took her a few times, then Mikal understood. Meg and Kristin were here to meet their parents! Mikal grinned up at Aylayna, who smiled back, then nodded toward the black-haired man. She said softly, "Brother-father." Brother. . .father. . .brother-son? The man was Meg and Kristin's cousin! Now he understood!

However, that still did not explain why the man was staring at him as if he somehow knew Mikal. And things became stranger yet again (though by now, Mikal was becoming accustomed to that), Meg's father, who now approached, with an arm draped around the shoulders of his elder daughter, was looking at him with a very similar expression. With a weary sigh, Mikal sat back in his wheeled chair. Just when he thought he was becoming accustomed to strange things. . .

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There were times when she really hated flying. Or, maybe not flying, per se. She didn't mind flying itself. On the other hand, she definitely hated screaming children, the parents of the aforementioned screaming children, and turbulence. With babies and very small children, she could forgive the screaming. The change in air pressure hurt their little ears, and you cried when something hurt. Bad manners, on the other hand, was another story entirely. She and her husband would have  _never_ taken their girls out in public if they behaved like screaming heathens.

And being stuck in her seat for several hours, of course, topped the list of things she hated about flying. Well, yes, she could get up and use the lavatory, but that wasn't recommended during turbulence. It wasn't as bad, flying from Miami to Raleigh, but longer flights were extremely uncomfortable. The food varied, from airline to airline. She had some in-flight meals that were wonderful and some that, to use her daughters' terminology, sucked rocks. The movies were of the same hit/miss variety as the meals.

She also missed sleeping in her own bed. It seemed that the older she became, the more comfortable her own bed was. Traveling was fun. That was true when she was a girl, accompanying her parents back to Oklahoma, and it was true now. However, sleeping in her own bed was also fun. Especially now that their girls were out in their own. Having the house to themselves gave them a freedom that balanced out the empty nest syndrome. And speaking of her girls (one of her favorite subjects, something she wasn't shy about admitting). . .

Wasn't  _this_  an interesting situation? The girls were here at the airport, as they promised the last time they talked, and they weren't alone. A  _very_  handsome young man with dark gold hair and green eyes sat in a wheelchair, rubbing the fabric of his blanket between his fingers. The blanket was carefully draped over his lap, something that made her smile. That was her elder daughter's touch, no doubt. Megan most likely had vague memories of Ailsa's daddy in the last months of his life, confined to a wheelchair with a quilt tucked in around his legs.

Her husband had retrieved all of their bags (and the airline didn't lose any this time, thankfully), and his nephew quickly grabbed what he could to help. The young man. . . Michael, Elena called him. . .made a gesture to the bags after watching Gavin and Francis. Gavin hesitated, but Francis put her overnight bag in his lap. Her husband said softly, "He wants to help. We can't take that from him." Evidently, he was right, because Michael smiled up at them and folded his arms around the bag almost protectively. She caught her breath at the sight of his smile. The phrase 'his smile is like the sun coming up' was created for men like Michael, and her own father.

_Oh my. That boy will be quite dangerous_! Still, Campbell could do with his kind of danger. She smirked, thinking about the reaction of some of her neighbors, the first time they saw him. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if some of them encouraged their girls to set their caps for him. Never mind that he was an amnesiac who spoke very little to no English, and thus, had no way to provide for them. He was a great catch. He had quality to spare. And as she learned from her girls, Nico (who was currently waiting outside in Elena's Saturn) liked him. Nico had excellent judgment when it came to humans.

Once everyone (except Megan, who was pushing Michael's wheelchair) had a bag to carry, they began the long walk that would take them back to the parking garage. As they walked, Ailsa Rafferty glanced at Michael every few moments, as she listened to her eldest and Elena explain a little more in depth about the decisions they made about his care. . .and his new home. Ailsa could only shake her head a little, smiling sadly. In the months before her mother's death, Mama often told her how much Megan reminded her of Ailsa's father. How much it hurt that Meggie was only six years old when Craig McFarlane died, really too young to know him.

Hearing about the decision to bring Michael home to Campbell (and Ailsa hoped that their neighbors remembered to pick up the papers, instead of leaving them scattered on the porch). . .that decision proved her mother right, yet again. Ailsa McFarlane Rafferty could only see her father through the eyes of a daughter. . .but even she could see how similar her eldest was to him. Maybe it was fate, since it was her father who suggested Megan's name. Her middle name, at least. She and Francis chose her given name. They would name their daughter 'Megan' and their son 'Dylan.' However, as the McFarlanes cooed over their new granddaughter, her father suggested 'Penelope.'

Their little girl stared up at the world with calm, curious eyes, and perhaps because of that, she reminded Ailsa's father of Odysseus' faithful, patient wife. Ailsa was never one who believed in things like that, but she had to wonder if her father knew something about her daughter that she didn't. It did seem that Megan picked up several character traits of her mythological namesake (assuming, of course, that Penelope was a myth). God knew, she picked up a lot from her grandfather. She inherited a great deal from both parents, but she also received quite a legacy from her maternal grandfather.

Her attitude toward duty was just one of those things, as Ailsa decided, after hearing her daughter explain why she made the decision she did about Michael.  _It needed to be done_. How many times had she heard that while she was growing up? That seemed to be her father's answer to so many questions she asked. It needed to be done. Just those five words. When Ailsa asked him why he volunteered after Pearl Harbor, when he didn't lose any friends there, he responded, ' _because it needed to be_ _done_.' After he volunteered to help clean up areas hit by Hurricane Donna in the early 1960's, she again asked him, ' _why_.' And again, he responded, ' _because it needs to be done_.'

While she knew in her heart that her father (and mother) saw everything that went on, if only in spirit, Ailsa wished her father lived long enough to see the kind of women both of his granddaughters became. She wished he lived long enough to see them welcome Kristin to the family, wished he was there when Megan graduated from high school, from college, from the police academy. Her father was not the sort of man who spoke a great deal about his feelings. He wasn't raised that way. But. . .she knew he would have been proud of both granddaughters.

She looked at her daughters. Kristin was now pushing Michael's wheelchair, while Megan paid the Express ticket. Elena was at her side, as ever. After all these years, Ailsa never wondered what those two discussed. Number one, part of it probably dealt with the same things she discussed with her own best friend, Elly Trask. Number two, the other part dealt with their job. (Though she doubted they were talking about Bethany Lawson. Megan's face lacked the pinched expression it wore when she was angry or upset or grieving.) And how much of their conversation dealt with Michael? Such a strange turn of events. She looked at the young man in the wheelchair, who was looking around as if he'd never seen an airport before. And who knew? Maybe this was his first time seeing an airport, though that begged the question of how he got into the country.

Or maybe not. There were other ways to travel, after all. Still, she had to wonder. What did he see, when he looked around him? How did the sights and the sounds of an airport, which were so commonplace to her, affect him? Right now, there was no distaste in his expression, only bewilderment, curiosity, and wonder. He reminded her a bit of a child, just learning about his world. . .but this was no child. Behind the curiosity and wonder, Ailsa could see something else. This was a young man haunted by something he couldn't even remember. What a horrifying feeling that must be.

How could her daughters have left this young man in Raleigh? They couldn't have. The coming months would be trying for them all. Much as Ailsa hassled her older daughter about giving her grandchildren, this wasn't exactly what Ailsa meant. Megan might not realize it yet, but in some ways, she was now a mother, to a man a few years older than herself. They knew nothing of his past, and so they would have to teach him what he needed to know, to have a future. Ailsa and Francis would help with that.

In fact. . . A plan began to form in Ailsa's mind. Christmas was coming up soon, after all, and she still had to have a little talk with her first-born about that little matter of keeping Bethany Lawson's murder a secret from them. Yes, yes, she understood that Megan had no desire to ruin their vacation (a vacation she helped to pay for), but even so. She was Megan's mother, she should have known about this. She should have known, should have been able to support her daughter in some way. And apparently, her daughter's instincts told her that there was no point in telling them about the torture and murder of Bethany Lawson, a sweet, lovely young girl who happened to resemble their younger daughter closely?  _More to the point_ , Ailsa reflected as they headed into the parking garage,  _that her mother would have a mental meltdown, and that her father would tear Dalton Robeson to shreds once they found out_. And she was right.

But Ailsa still had to give her a hard time about it. It was expected. . .she was Megan's mother.

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He enjoyed traveling. . .but spending two weeks within the shuttle was  _not_ natural to an Elf. When he and Gimli took the last ship to Valinor, ages ago, it was a ship. . .not a shuttle. This was more like taking the Paths of the Dead, without the Dead. He allowed himself a small smile, remembering Gimli's reaction to that particular part of their journey. Yet, the rivalry/friendly competition between the Elf and the dwarf was what pushed Gimli forward at times. Legolas had no doubt that if the Gimli reincarnation in this lifetime found Boromir first, the Elf would be hearing about it.

Well, they would just see about  _that_. This was only one reason (of many) he was impatient to get his search started. Haldir did his best to keep Legolas focused, but the prince's impatience remained. He wanted to get to Vancouver, he wanted to contact Gabriel, and he wanted to find Boromir. While he was tempted to say, 'in no particular order,' the prince knew he had to at least reach his home before they could start searching for Boromir.

He hadn't even gotten started, but already, his impatience was waning, now that he stood on the firm ground once more. Legolas inhaled deeply, smiling at the scent of earth and trees and life. It was somewhat chilly, which was to be expected of British Columbia in December. Since they were along the coast, however, the weather was warmer than it would be further to the east in the Canadian province. Besides, Elves did not feel cold the way humans did. Legolas smiled to himself, remembering the annoyed glances he received from the other members of the Fellowship while they were on cruel Caradhras, and worked very hard at forgetting the other key part of that trek up the mountain. The Ring in the snow, and Boromir's expression as he picked it up.

On the other hand, while he could walk on top of snow, it tended to make other forms of transportation more difficult. Haldir observed as he carried up the last few bundles of supplies from the shuttle, "If I remember correctly, the stables are approximately three kilometers in that direction." Legolas nodded. Yes, he believed the same thing. They timed their arrival to ensure someone would be at the stables. During their last visit, more than three years earlier, they became friends with the owner of the stables, Ethan Cooper. He was, by mortal standards, rather old. . .now in his eighties. . .and grooming his granddaughter Vanessa to take his place.

Legolas rather hoped that Ethan was at the stables, rather than his eighteen year old granddaughter. Vanessa was somewhat. . . infatuated. . .with him. Flattering as he found it, the Elf prince really had no desire to spend the next few weeks avoiding the girl or trying to avoid hurting her feelings. Boromir came first. Haldir observed softly, "We should get started. . .the sun is high in the sky. We stand a better chance at reaching the Cooper Stables before the proprietor's granddaughter returns from school." Legolas glared at his friend, and Haldir simply grinned. The MarchWarden took an inordinate amount of delight in Vanessa Cooper's infatuation with Legolas.. More to the point, he took great pleasure in teasing the prince about the aforementioned crush.

However, Legolas ignored him this time and replied, "I agree. We should reach the stables within an hour or two. If we can reach my home by nightfall, we can begin our search. I imagine you would prefer to contact Gabriel?" This was said with a sweet smile, as Legolas continued, "You do seem to find it easier to operate my Rolodex than my computer." Now it was Haldir's turn to glare. Aside from the shuttle, he had little use for machines. . .largely because he found it difficult to operate them.

"I will contact Gabriel. Do you know where you will begin your search on the internet?" his companion asked. Legolas didn't answer at first, choosing instead to start in the direction he knew the stables to be. Haldir was accustomed to this, however, and merely kept pace with him. Rather easily, actually. The prince had several possibilities in mind, depending on the search engine. He didn't dare hope for a picture, but if he could get the search narrowed down to mysterious appearances, that would cut down the area they had to check. At the same time, he would send emails to the other reincarnates who had their Middle-earth memories back. . .just in case Boromir showed up in Europe or Australia.

According to Haldir, the three women were definitely of the West. Lady Galadriel confirmed this, adding that she believed they were on the North American continent. A second scrying revealed that all three women spoke fluent English. However, the Lady of the Wood was unfamiliar with the accents of the English language, so she couldn't further their knowledge in that respect. It was possible they were in Europe, Australia or New Zealand, but since Legolas had his headquarters in the Pacific Northwest, they would start there.

At last, he replied, "I have a few options open to me. My main concern is making the search narrow enough, so we have fewer false leads. If I can get a search engine that will give me articles rather than websites, that will be helpful." Haldir was nodding, though Legolas was quite certain he understood only a fraction of what was meant. His companion could turn a computer on and off, and that was nearly the extent of his knowledge. If Legolas wished to have a 'computer geek' conversation, he would speak with the Peredhel twins. . .or their mother. Haldir was his traveling companion.

The MarchWarden said at last, "And I will see what I may learn from Gabriel. He may know of things not found in newspapers or on the internet." Legolas inclined his head. That was a possibility, of course. As a first responder, Gabriel would have access to medical information. The two Elves were silent for several moments, then Haldir observed, "I am uncertain if I told you before we left. . .when the Lady scryed the second time, Lady Celebrian was with her. She drew sketches of Boromir's guardians."

No, Haldir did  _not_  mention that! Until they had an idea of where Boromir was, the sketches would be of little use. . .but he still appreciated the information. The MarchWarden continued, "I have the sketches with me. If you have a facsimile machine at your residence, you might consider sending them to Gabriel." Legolas nodded absently. He would take that into consideration. Haldir added, "And she sketched a picture of Boromir, based on the memories of the twins."

That would also be helpful. While Gabriel was the reincarnation of Grima, most of his memories centered around the last weeks of his life. Thus, he remembered very little about Boromir. He remembered meeting the Gondorian while Boromir was traveling through Rohan to reach Imladris, but little besides that. Once they reached his home, he would scan the sketches, then email them to all of his reincarnated friends.

Haldir, it seemed, had been doing quite a bit of thinking while they were on the shuttle. He observed, "Has Gabriel not told us in the past that he has more than a passing interest in the strange?" That surprised Legolas. He stopped walking and looked at his companion. Seeing that he had the prince's undivided attention, Haldir went on, "I seem to recall that Gabriel has mentioned that his memories of his past life has piqued his interest in what mortals call the supernatural." Yes, and? What was Haldir trying to tell him? His companion explained, "Think on it, Legolas. What if Boromir appeared in a city? That would be a rather mysterious appearance, would you not think so?"

"Indeed," the prince murmured, "then I will ask if he has heard anything on his mailing list. Gabriel has mentioned that in the past. . .however, he has also said that many of the people he has encountered have been. . ." How had Gabriel phrased it? Unable to recall the exact wording, Legolas compromised by concluding, "Seeking attention. He is rather disenchanted. Still, I will ask him what he has heard among his mailing lists." In truth, Legolas was a bit embarrassed that Haldir remembered something of this magnitude, and he forgot. Unfortunately, he had the uneasy feeling that his companion would use this against him in some way. It was the way things worked between them, in terms of entertainment, when naught else was available.

Ah well. Eventually, it would be Haldir's turn.

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Her wandering detectives were on their way home, and it was about damn time. When Lydia Anders told Megan Rafferty and Elena Gutierrez to take a few days off, she never thought those few days would turn into more than ten days. Still, she couldn't regret it. The pair needed the time off, and needed it badly. Things became even more complicated after they reached Raleigh. The duo rarely asked for help (aside from calling for backup), so it surprised her when she received another phone call from her detectives, a few days after learning about their plan to bring the mysterious Michael home with them.

Rafferty's parents were coming home from their cruise, she learned, along with Rafferty's cousin, on the same day Michael was being released from the hospital. Her girls were nobody's fools. They decided to remain in Raleigh for the extra time, bring Michael home from the hospital and pick up Rafferty's family at the same time. Who could argue with that logic? Certain members of the council, apparently, who protested to the press about the 'vacation' her detectives were taking with 'city' money.

Lydia was immensely grateful she wasn't there during the interview conducted at Lady J's. It was bad enough, nearly spitting out her coffee while reading the story in question. Janithy Stuart, the owner of Lady J's, provided the rest of the story to the cub reporter who conducted the interview. She explained to the youngster that Rafferty and Gutierrez were using their own money, and that they were given the time off because of the Lawson murder. Usually, Lydia didn't have much use for reporters, but in this case, she figured she would make an exception. Although, to be fair, Janithy probably didn't give the kid much of a choice in the matter. She had rather strong opinions, and never hesitated to share them. More than that, if she had certain facts at her disposal, she didn't hesitate to share  _those_ , either.

She left the reporters to Janithy, since she had greater patience. Lydia had to deal with the consequences within her own department. Here again, the problem was with the younger officers, who resented the increased time. The older officers, like Santucci, had a verbal smackdown ready for the complainers, reminding them that Rafferty and Gutierrez covered for them countless times. However, Lydia noticed that each of the older officers asked her later if the city was paying for Gutierrez and Rafferty's hotel stay. She countered by reminding them that the city wouldn't pay for their flight or hotel accommodations when they attended police seminars in other cities. What made them think this was any different?

Santucci just grimaced and nodded. Of course, right after that, she had another conversation with the Raleigh police captain, Nathan Lambert. He was a good guy. Kinda reminded her of her first partner, back in Jersey. He realized, just as her detectives did, that there was nothing the Raleigh Police Department could do for Michael. They had no idea how he got to that alley. . .no idea who shot him. Going to Campbell was probably the best thing for him, under the circumstances. Like Detective Aubrey, he asked that the Campbell police department keep him apprised of Michael's progress.

According to her girls, Michael was already making progress. Not in remembering how he got to Raleigh, much less the alley, or in his past, but in learning English. During her last conversation with Kristin Rafferty, Lydia discovered that the trio, plus the doctor in charge of Michael's care, were teaching Michael to speak English, a word at a time. Based on what she heard about him, that was probably the only way to do it. It wasn't as if they could enroll him in an ESL class.

A knock on the door alerted Lydia that she had company, and she called, "Enter at your own risk!" An amused chuckle was her reward, as the door swung open. Lydia smiled back. . . really, what else could she do? Dr. Arabella Trask entered her office, and the police captain sat back, asking, "So. . .what can I do for you today, Elly?" While the tag-team of Sayre McFarlane and Regine Farrell were her welcoming committee to Campbell, Elly Trask was her first friend of her own age.

When Lydia first arrived in Campbell, Elly had just taken over the coroner's office. Even without her curious career choice, the young doctor would have turned heads. She stood five feet, ten inches in her stocking feet with a figure that was the envy of many women in town. As if that wasn't enough, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Add to that her warped sense of humor, and Elly was one of the most sought-after single women in town. You would have thought a beautiful, intelligent young woman would terrify men, and she did scare the hell out of some. But more were intrigued by her.

Elly observed, "You know Ailsa and Francis are coming back today." It was just that, too. An observation, not a question. Though she spent most of her time at work with the dead, Elly knew about as much about what was going on in Campbell as the lunchtime crowd in Lady J's. Lydia nodded and her friend continued, "Sooo, does that mean my honorary nieces will be arriving as well?" That caused the blonde woman to roll her eyes and Elly added, laughing, "Hey, it happens, you know! I went to school with a guy whose oldest nephew was only a year younger than he was."

"And what does your mother say about you calling a thirty-two year old cop your niece, albeit honorary?" Lydia questioned, teasing the younger woman. Elly would be thirty-eight in April of 2006, only six years older than her 'honorary niece.' The young woman just grinned, her warm brown eyes sparkling. Lydia shook her head, asking, "What can I do for you? I know you aren't here to ask me about Ailsa and Francis coming home, and I'm betting that you're not here about Bethany Lawson."

"I am. . .just not in the way you're thinking. After I finished her autopsy last night, I contacted one of my professors at Duke. She's the one who really got me into forensics. Anyhow, she told me that Robeson's MO sounded familiar, but she'd need a couple of days to confirm it," Elly answered. What was she thinking, that Robeson was a copycat of some kind? The coroner explained, "It isn't so much that I think he's a copycat. I read over the transcripts of his confession to Rafe Santucci. His most immediate motive seems to be revenge. A woman turned him down, and he wanted someone who looked like that woman to pay."

"Are you thinking that Kristin Rafferty turned down this guy? He's gotta be at least fifteen years older than she is!" Lydia exclaimed, incredulous. Elly gave her a look that could best be described as disapproving, and the police captain realized that the coroner wasn't finished yet. Still, the idea of Dalton Robeson, who was pushing forty, sniffing around a college girl was enough to give her the creeps. Sure, she knew about large age-differences in relationships, but  _ew_!

"Not necessarily Kristin, but  _someone_. I know, Kristin is the first person that springs to your mind. Anyhow, what I'm saying is, when I was reading the transcripts, Robeson thinks he's some kind of artist. That got me thinking. . .most artists, both real and so-called, have inspirations. That's why I contacted my professor. If I'm right, we might be able to help find other victims of this guy," Elly replied. Lydia nodded. She had another detective working on that angle, but Elly's input would help as well.

The two women were silent for several moments. Elly sat back in her chair and rubbed her fingers over her eyes. At last, Lydia asked softly, "What time are you heading over to see Ailsa and Francis?" Elly looked up, surprised, and the police captain explained, "I know what time their flight gets in. . .and I know you'll want to welcome them home. Maybe explain to Ailsa why you didn't tell her about Bethany's death?" Elly rolled her eyes, obviously exasperated.

"Remind me to hurt Gavin for that? He had no business telling them about that," the coroner muttered. Lydia hid a smile. . .or tried to, rather. Elly continued, "Megan's thirty-two years old, not twelve. She would have told them on the way home. But no, Gavin couldn't trust his cousin, he had to throw his two cents in. I swear, that man never changes!" Now Lydia wasn't even trying to hide her smile. Elly and Gavin were dating when she and Steph arrived in Campbell. His divorce was final, and he threw himself back into the dating world, just as she did after her own divorce. They dated for about six months, and while they realized they wouldn't work out, they remained friends. Which meant that Elly told Gavin when he was being an idiot.

Lydia pointed out, "Well, like you said. . .Rafferty's an adult. She can handle her mother." That wasn't the point, and she knew it. Elly took her role as the Rafferty girls' 'aunt' very seriously. She was almost viciously protective of the two, even where their cousin was concerned. Lydia added, "Besides. I have a feeling Campbell's latest resident will distract Ailsa from her lectures." Elly's eyebrows shot straight up. Ohhh. She forgot Elly didn't know about that. Well, it was time she rectified that situation. Putting the evil in the world out of her mind for a while, Lydia began to explain to Elly what took Rafferty and Gutierrez to the capital city in the first place.

TBC


End file.
